“It was a dark and stormy night….once upon a time….”
“I am getting the feeling that you are not taking this very seriously.”
“You mean the therapy?”
“No I mean the restraining order.”
Restraining order. Seriously. The bastard took out a damned restraining order. I mean It wasn’t like I actually hit him with the knife. Hell I wasn’t even close to his privates. If I had wanted to cut his dick off, trust me I would have.
Instead I am in the outer bands of hell also known as anger management therapy. Apparently I have anger issues. Really, couldn’t tell. I suppose throwing knives at your soon to be ex husband at the Golden Corral is considered to be a bit not good and seen by some as having issues with anger. Nope no problem. I was just really pissed off.
“You know as part of your deal you are to attend and successfully complete the program. Failure to do so will result in criminal charges being pressed.”
“What if I leave town?”
Which is how I found myself careening out of Oxford Mississippi and heading towards the bowels of south Georgia and into the bosom of the anti Christ also known as Suga, my mother. I have not actually been in the town of my upbringing for any considerable time since I was 18. I graduated high school, left town with the magician from the county fair and never looked back.
Now some 20 years later I am back. This time to take care of the bat shit crazy woman that used to be my mother. I might also be running away from that pesky restraining order. Everyone in Mississippi seemed to be on board with the idea of forgetting about the whole mess if I promised never to set foot in Oxford again. No problemo, I have always wanted to go back to that god forsaken place known as Gertmond Georgia to take care of my ailing mama, said no one ever.
Since it takes roughly eight hours to get back home we might as well get to know one another. My name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes.Yes, that is my real name. I go by Sherlock but my family has always called me Locky. For the love of god I have no fucking idea why they can’t just call me Sherlock. I would even take Will or Bill or even Willie. I believe this proves my theory that my mother is indeed the spawn of Satan. I mean who the fuck names their child William but calls him Locky. I know what you are thinking, people with no teeth and married to their first cousin kind of folks. I will have you know that my mama has all of her own teeth. Pretty sure my daddy wasn’t her first cousin but not positive. I know that Sallie Mae my mama’s mama was married to her first cousin. My mama’s sister Dottie was married to kin too. Anyway my point being, my folks aint some white trash kind of family yet they go and call their only son Locky.
The Holmes are a prominent family in Gertmond. Or rather they would be if any of them had stuck around. My father was a Holmes. My mother is a Gertie. Why yes just like the town name. Yall see where I am going with this. Both families prominent. Children married. Had blue eyed little boy and called him Locky. Doesn’t make a bit of sense. My mama’s name is Eugenia Weaver Gertie but everyone has always called her ‘Suga’ ‘cause she was always so sweet. I shit you not. My daddy’s name was Emment Sherlock Holmes. He was called ‘Yank’. I haven’t the foggiest idea why. He had been called that for so long even he had forgotten how it all started. So Suga and Yank had Locky. I really suppose I should have provided barf bags on this adventure. I should also probably let you know that while my mama is named after something sweet, no one has ever in my life called me sweet. Also in case you haven’t figured it out yet….I am light in my loafers, queer as a three dollar bill, a fudge packer. Gay.